


Dirty mouth

by DracoIgnis



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bathtub Sex, Bathtubs, Breathplay, Deepthroating, Ear Piercings, Established Relationship, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Nipple Piercings, Piercings, Smoking, Tattoos, Underwater Sex, Vaginal Sex, blowjob, light female dominance, mouth soaping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:35:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22759375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoIgnis/pseuds/DracoIgnis
Summary: Jon comes home to find Daenerys waiting for him in the bath. He wants to get down and dirty - but can he find the right words to please?Written for the Jonerys Valentines week.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 53
Kudos: 234





	Dirty mouth

There were rose petals on the floor.

As Jon kicked off his Dr Martens and shrugged out of his clammy leather jacket, he watched the trail with suspicion. There was no doubt about where it was leading; but for towers of moving boxes, their loft apartment was empty, and he could see straight through the living room to the bathroom door where a single red rose was nestled against the threshold. _Peculiar,_ he thought as he eyed the flickering light seeping out from beneath the closed door, _I never took her for a romantic._

Nirvana’s ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ was playing somewhere in the space. The sound was thrown around between the bare cement walls. With the room clad in darkness, Jon walked slowly, his body sopping wet from having just run through the rain. When he stepped on the path, the petals stuck to his heels, and he paused at the kitchen island to wrestle off his socks.

“Oh loverboy,” a voice called from behind the door, “don’t keep me waiting.”

Jon pushed a drenched locks of hair out of his eyes and took in a deep breath before he reached for the handle.

As the door slipped open, Jon’s face was washed with warm air. The bathroom was glistening with damp, the mirror fogged, and the white tiles covered in streams of water. Though he could hear her giggling, it took him a moment to focus on the woman sitting in the simmering tub.

Daenerys was naked. Her silver hair was braided and pulled back into a messy bun, the elastic band barely keeping the thick locks contained. Her small ears were heavy with golden rings and, when she rose from the water to rest her elbows on the side of the round marble bath, he could just see the shine from her pierced pink nipples. The barbells were gold and stood out against her tanned skin. Somehow, it made Jon’s mouth water.

“You managed to follow the trail?” she smirked and twirled a silver braid around her finger. “ _Clever boy._ ”

Jon pushed the door shut, careful to keep the heat inside the tight space, still his eyes lingered on Daenerys’ plump lips. They were tucked back into a wry smile. He felt like pushing his rough fingers between them to feel how soft they were. “I felt like Hansel,” he spoke.

“Does that make me Gretel or the witch?” Daenerys mused. She let go of her braid, allowing it to fall all the way to her shoulder. When Jon’s eyes dipped, they hesitated at the wording across her collarbone: _Dracarys._

“Hopefully neither,” he said.

“You look cold,” Daenerys commented, tapping her nails alongside the edge of the tub. She shortly glanced at the steaming water around her, the surface pale red from her bath-bomb, and then sent Jon a querying look. “Perhaps you should join me?”

Jon licked his lips and leaned back against the sink. “Is that an invitation or a command?” he asked.

“What do you prefer?” Daenerys said. As Jon paused, she clucked her tongue and instructed: “Strip.”

Jon’s fingers pushed to the collar of his denim shirt. For a moment, he hesitated at the button but then, as Daenerys leaned back into the tub, her violet eyes watching him, he started popping them open. One by one they sprung up, revealing more of his pale, inked flesh. There were the crossed swords on his neck. The harsh writing at his collarbone: _Love > Duty _. The raven across his pecs, its wings just touching his brown nipples. As his thumbs grazed across the ripples of his abs, he sensed Daenerys’ gaze travelling to the top of his jeans, so he took his time removing one, then the other strap of his suspenders. The elastics dangled down the side of his hips.

“You’re too cool to still attempt the hipster look,” Daenerys commented. She shifted in the water. Her gaze never left his crotch.

“All the guys at the barbers wear suspenders,” Jon defended himself.

“You’re not all the guys. You’re the _owner_.”

“All the more reason not to stand out. Do you know who complaining customers always want to see?”

“The manager,” Daenerys argued swiftly.

Jon chuckled. “Yes, but they never like your answer,” he said and winked at her. He hooked his thumbs into the denim, ready to drag the jeans off his legs, but Daenerys waved him closer.

As he stood before her, she reached out of the tub and undid the button, then slowly unzipped him. His black pubic hair was revealed inch by inch. She cocked her head to the side with a dirty glimpse in her eyes. “No pants?” she queried. “Hoping to get lucky?”

Jon shrugged. “Easy access.”

“For whom?” She pushed her nails into the waist band as she easily dragged the jeans off of him. As the fabric slipped to the floor, she was faced with his cock. It hung freely between his legs, the foreskin covering the head still, and she gently pushed her fingertips up to tuck it back.

Jon took in a sharp breath at her touch. “You know, it’s cold out here,” he commented as her hand wrapped around his member. Her touch was warm and wet. When she started stroking him, he felt his cock stir in her palm. “Can I get in?”

“Can you ask nicely?” Daenerys mused and sent him an innocent look. Her violet eyes peeked up at him from between her black lashes.

Jon rocked into her hand as he spoke: “Please?”

Daenerys gave his cockhead a kiss before letting go of his length. She pushed herself back against the tap, allowing him enough space to climb into the water. It was scalding hot against his skin; the moment he stepped into the tub, his flesh flushed bright red, and Jon found himself gritting his teeth together not to swear out loud.

“How do you not boil?” he asked. Sweat was already slipping down his forehead. He shifted between his feet, keeping one out in the damp air to cool, then the other. Still, his ankles hurt from the heat. “You could make lobster in this!”

“There you go again with your hipster ways,” Daenerys said and chuckled at him. She leaned back against the side of the tub, watching him with amusement. “Lobster! Did you know that the recent craving for lobster rolls pushed the market price to an eleven year high just a while back?”

“Why do _you_ know that?” Jon asked, still treading water.

Daenerys tapped a manicured finger to her nose. “Because I read.”

“So do I.”

“Other than the Chinese takeaway menu?”

“No better literature has ever been written.” Jon finally allowed himself to sink down on his knees. Still, his hands were clinging onto the sides of the bath, his knuckles going white from strain as he tried to keep himself somewhat afloat. It was only Daenerys sharp command of:

“Sit!” - that finally made him sink fully down onto his arse.

The water brushed high to his nipples. Jon wondered why he ever agreed to buy such a deep tub. Yet, as Daenerys shuffled in between his legs, her hands brushing across his clammy face, he felt himself calm under the small kisses she pressed to his neck and ears.

“Can you believe it?” she whispered to his skin, her soft lips trailing all the way across his cheek to his lips. When she hovered his mouth, she looked him in the eyes, her voice filled with excitement as she breathed: “We have a mortgage!”

Jon laughed to her lips. “Most people would say: _We own a flat!_ ”

“People who’ve never lifted a finger in their life can say that too,” she reminded him. Her fingertips brushed into his wet locks. Her nails scratched nicely across his scalp, and Jon sighed into her touch. “People who’ve just been given their home by their rich parents can say that. Not everyone can brag about a mortgage.”

“Few people want to,” Jon pointed out, still a smile took over his lips. He pushed his hands down Daenerys’ shoulders, across her arms, all the way up to her hands in his hair. As he sunk further into the tub, she climbed atop him, her wet body pushing down on his.

Daenerys hummed as she started undoing his bun. Jon’s curls fell down around his face. He sensed how the ends grazed the surface of the water, the locks growing heavy. “It does make me wonder,” she spoke as she twirled his locks, “do you think we’ve become too-” Daenerys paused. She smacked her lips as she looked for the right word to speak.

“Mainstream?” Jon offered.

“So you think that?” Daenerys looked at him with concern. “That we’ve abandoned what we stand for? What we believe in?”

“I thought we believed in love,” Jon said and nodded down at his tattoo. “Or should the greater-than sign point the other way?”

“Don’t be silly,” Daenerys chided. Her lips pouted as she rested on him, her arms slipping around his shoulders. “When we met, we talked about never settling down. Travelling the world. Maybe busking for cash. I imagined you performing at every London tube station.”

“What a dream to abandon!” Jon said, his voice heavy with fake nostalgia. “The rats! The commuters! How will I ever forgive myself?”

“I said - _don’t be silly_ ,” Daenerys repeated and lightly slapped his cheek. She bit her inner cheek before continuing: “I feel silly, you know? Like I’ve bought into this capitalistic dream. Get a job. Get married. Buy a home. Pump out kids.”

“I have a kid?” Jon spoke, but he pressed his thumb to Daenerys’ lips to silence her before she could scold him again. “Look,” he said, lowering his finger as he sent her a gentle smile. “We live in a society-”

“Don’t quote memes.”

“Well, we do,” Jon shrugged. “It’s okay. There’s nothing evil about any of these things. It’s not bad to have a job, because it means you’re doing honest work. It’s not bad to get married, it’s just a way of committing yourself to someone. Besides, we didn’t exactly go _traditional_.” As if to make a point, Jon waved his hand in front of Daenerys’ face, showing the tattooed wedding band around his finger.

Daenerys smirked. “What, are those not ordained by the church yet?” she chuckled. She pressed a kiss to his finger, her pink tongue wrapping around the inked piece.

Jon shuddered at her move. He pushed his fingertip into her mouth, and she closed her lips around it, eagerly sucking him inside until his knuckle rested at her face. “I don’t want to do something because it’s edgy,” he said, slowly twisting his finger in her mouth. He could feel her spit, and her soft inner cheeks, and the strength with which she suckled on him. His cock stirred at the thought of what she could do to it. “And I don’t want to _not_ do something just because it’s common,” he continued, “I just want to… I don’t know.” He shook his head, and Daenerys leaned back, his finger popping free of her mouth as she said:

“Live?”

“Live,” Jon nodded. He ran his thumb across her lips before taking a hold of her chin, nudging her head closer to his. Their mouths almost touched. He could feel her breath across his face. “Exactly.”

Daenerys kissed him. Her mouth on his was warm and greedy, and her tongue soon demanded access. Once it swirled around his, all Jon could do was moan to her lips, his body quivering with a need to be close to her. He dragged his hands around her waist, pulling her closer, making her sink between his legs until her sex was rubbing against his throbbing cock.

He wanted her. He wanted her ten years earlier when they met at Glastonbury, his wellies covered in mud, her tent ripped in half by the wind, the single sleeping bag between them not enough to keep their bodies warm. That night, as he rocked into her, the condom tight on his cock and her fingers in his hair demanding, her lips promising him salvation if he could treat her right, he realised that he’d never felt more fulfilled. Under her eyes, her hands, her body, her words - he felt seen, and now, as she fumbled with his hard cock in the water, pushing him to her sex, forcing him inside of her tight cunt, he felt just as whole.

 _I want her,_ Jon thought, allowing her hands on his shoulders to push him down further, the water drawing up around his neck, _However she wants me - I want her._

Daenerys’ inners were soft. Jon groaned to the kiss as her cunt clamped down around his cock, the precum making her slick and easy to fuck. She was atop him, her breasts rising into the air, the water dripping down their round shape. He wanted nothing more than to reach over and twist the barbell in her nipple, but she slapped his hand aside before he could touch her.

“Naughty boy,” she purred, sending shivers down his cock. She leaned back, holding onto his bent knees as she rocked down onto him. The water sloshed up around her shape, its red colour rising across her stomach like flickering flames. “You should know who’s in charge by now.”

Jon grunted and grabbed at her waist, leading himself deeper into her with a tug. “I own the shop,” he reminded her.

Daenerys moaned as his cock rammed into her, filling her more than before. “Mhmm, yes,” she agreed, her nails dragging down across his legs, leaving long marks behind. “Outside these four walls, you’re the boss.”

Jon licked his lips, his gaze meeting hers as he asked: “And inside?”

“And inside,” Daenerys chuckled, her voice warm. She leaned back in over him, her movement causing him to slip further into the water. The surface now rose to his chin. He felt his hair submerged in the wetness. “Well, inside these four walls, I tell you what to do.” She patted his cheek, her hand slightly forceful. “Correct?”

Jon groaned, his skin shivering with pleasure from her touch. As he didn’t reply immediately, her hand slapped to his cheek again, this time making an audible clap echo between the stone tiles, and he gasped: “Correct!” - earning himself a peck on the nose.

“Good boy,” she praised and rocked down onto his cock again, making him gasp with need. “Good boy.”

Daenerys was riding him. She was going so quickly that the water around them sloshed about, and whenever Jon tried to push himself up, he felt his frame slipper against the smooth marble, and he always ended up further below the surface. If he didn’t crane his neck, the soapy water would slide over his lips and fill his mouth, and he found himself spluttering when she pressed her hands through his hair, shortly forcing him below the surface.

“I feel like you’re washing my mouth,” Jon gasped as he emerged again, the water slipping from his full lips.

Daenerys chuckled and raised her brows. Her hands in his hair pulled him up, making his head hover the surface, and the water slip to below his chin. “Well, you do have a dirty mouth on you,” she commented. She pulled herself slightly off his cock before slamming back onto it, both of them moaning as he filled her tight cunt. “What wonders it has done to me at times!”

“Only because you’re as filthy as me,” Jon groaned. His neck was aching from the position, but he did not want to drop his head. Somehow, the feeling of Daenerys holding him up, forcing him to remain in a position that pleased her, made his cock swell with need. Perhaps it was also the way she was looking at him - her violet eyes watched him with interest at his words, and her free hand slipped from his knee to behind him, grabbing onto something between the scattered shampoo bottles.

“Did you just call me filthy?” she asked as she pulled back a bar of soap. It was new and smooth, the round surface free of bubbles, and Jon eyed it with slight confusion. “I thought you preferred to compliment me.”

“What compliment do you want?” Jon asked.

Daenerys shrugged, twisting the bar between her fingers. “Try me,” she dared.

Jon licked his lips. His gaze slipped from the soap to her heavy breasts. Her pink nipples were stiff, the golden barbells hovering in the air, and the sight made him speak the first thing that came to mind: “You’ve got a great set of tits.”

Daenerys smirked. “ _Bad compliment,_ ” she scolded him and dipped the soap into the water. As she pulled it back out, wet and foamy, she dragged it across his lips, making them glisten with bubbles. “I’ve got to wash you until you speak only nice things.”

“That’ll be the day,” Jon chuckled, but moving his lips made the soapy water slip into his mouth. In comparison to that of the tub, this water was more concentrated, and the taste strong on his tongue. He coughed, sloshing the bubbles around his mouth before letting them drip from his lips.

Daenerys watched him with intense amusement to her eyes. It almost made his heart skip a beat. “Try again,” she said, waving the soap in front of his eyes, “another compliment.”

Jon paused. He knew many flattering things he could say to her: how he loved her silver locks, how he adored the beautiful shape of her eyes, how he longed for a kiss from her gentle lips, how he fell in love with her determined personality. _But none of those things will earn me a punishment,_ he knew, and his heart ached for her to take charge.

As Jon wrecked his brain for something to say, Daenerys started moving again. Her body rode him, slowly but at a steady pace, and he felt his cock pulsate deep inside her wanting cunt. It was so tight and so warm that he felt pebbles of sweat roll down his cheeks, making his face clammy, and it was hard to concentrate on anything other than feeling good.

“Go on,” Daenerys instructed, making him snap back to reality, and, once more, he just spoke what came to his mind:

“I love your tight cunt,” earning him another chuckle.

“True,” she said, “but hardly a compliment.” She pushed the bar of soap to his lips again, but this time she did not paint them. Instead, she pressed it between his lips until his teeth rested around it, and she pulled back, leaving it nestled there in his mouth. “Now,” she purred, placing her hands onto his chest as she started leaning onto him, her body hovering his frame. “Be a good boy and hold onto that for me while I come.” With that, she pressed down, suddenly forcing Jon’s head underwater, and she pushed her whole body-weight onto him as she started riding him with fury.

As Jon’s face splashed below the surface, he found his eyes shutting with shock, and his teeth almost parted in a surprised gasp. But he managed to control himself, biting onto the bar with need, and his hands grabbed a hold of Daenerys’ hips as he felt her movements, his cock being ridden toward her orgasm.

In the water, all sounds seemed far away. Daenerys’ moaning was like a tune playing in another room - audible, but not something he could make out. Yet his heartbeat seemed to fill his ears; its quick, excited drumming started slowing down, the muscle moving slower as his breath started wearing out. _Dun-Dun-Dun._ He could feel it throbbing through his body. His lungs clenched in his chest, begging for air. His nostrils flared. His lips suckled on the soap, the bubbles filling his mouth, making his throat close in on itself from the harsh taste.

 _I need air,_ Jon realised. He could’ve shoved her off. He could’ve emerged from the water. He was strong enough to fight Daenerys’ body into submission. _But I don’t want to._

Instead, Jon slipped a hand from the safety of the tub to between his legs, and he started rubbing Daenerys’ nub as she rode him. Immediately, he felt her stir, her body closing tighter at his cock as his thumb grazed her sex. So he continued to rub her, circling her nub, pushing at its soft flesh as she leaned in over him, her hands digging into his hair, her hold keeping his head trapped to the marble tub.

Then, she came. He felt it like a wave in the water - for a moment, her body stiffened above his, then she shivered around his cock, her cunt clutching onto him as she wore herself tired from her strong orgasm. For a moment, he almost thought she’d forgotten about him, and he started choking on the soap, the bar sticking to his teeth that were deeply embedded in it.

But then, with a harsh tug at his hair, she dragged him out of the water, up above the surface, and dragged the bar free of his lips, allowing him a breath of air.

Jon gasped and spluttered, bubbles dropping down his beard as he heaved. His Adam’s apple jumped, his heart skipped several beats, and he fluttered his eyes open, for a moment almost confused about where he was at. It was only once his body started calming, his lungs no longer aching from a lack of oxygen, that he was able to focus on her again.

She was still between his legs, his cock embedded in her cunt, but now, as he watched her red cheeks, she tucked herself off of him and gave him a gentle smile. “Now that,” she said, her voice slightly breathless, “is a _good boy._ ”

Daenerys’ bun had come undone. Her silver braids were hanging down her back, the hair wetted. Still, she didn’t seem to mind; her violet eyes were clouded with pleasure, and it was a sweet kiss that she pressed to his soapy lips. “I did well?” he mumbled to them, his mind still catching up with the situation, and she nodded as she kissed him.

“Very well,” she praised, her tongue stroking his. “If I hadn’t already come, I’d use that clean mouth of yours to wash my body nice and slick,” she teased, and pressed a peck to his nose, “but I reckon it’s your turn for relief.”

“My turn?” Jon knew he sounded like a broken record, but his head was still foggy. As he gasped in another breath of air, it was with confused eyes that he watched Daenerys reach over the tub toward the shelves on the wall. She stuck her hand in between the soft towels and then, with a triumphant smirk on her lips, withdrew a pack of smokes and a lighter. Jon blinked. “You still smoke!”

“Shush,” Daenerys chided, still she blushed. “It’s just for emergencies.”

“We only just moved in - how many emergencies can you have in a week?” Jon asked. As she popped the carton open, revealing just one fag, he added: “ _That many?_ ”

“I’m about to treat you, so don’t be a dick,” Daenerys murmured. She popped a smoke into her mouth and lit it before throwing the carton and lighter aside. As the tip started glowing, she handed it over to Jon. “Here.”

Jon claimed the smoke with his lips, giving her a small nod of approval. “Thanks,” he mumbled around the filter. As the smoke filled his lungs, he sensed his heartbeat relax, and the fog finally seemed to clear from his mind. With a satisfied grunt, he prodded himself up against the side of the tub and leaned his head back, smoke escaping from the corners of his lips. “Oh fuck, this is life,” he spoke.

“It’s about to get better,” Daenerys promised him. Before he had a chance to look down and ask her _how_ , she showed him; she slipped onto her knees, grabbed a hold of his cock, and then dipped her head down to take him into her wet mouth.

As Daenerys’ soft lips closed around his member, Jon groaned and felt his body melt. He sunk more tightly against the tub, keeping his body in a comfortable position as he watched Daenerys bob her head up and down, his cock slipping in and out of her warm tight mouth. She had little space, more so as his cockhead swelled with blood, the fat head pushing at her soft inner cheek. Jon liked fucking her cunt, but he loved being embraced by her mouth, the wet, slurpy sounds escaping her like a heavenly tune to his ears.

Jon had another drag of the smoke, his eyes closing slightly until he could just barely see her through his lashes, and he curled his toes with pleasure as her hand went to work on his balls, massaging the sack with care. Her nails were gentle on his soft skin. He pushed himself into her hold. “Since when did you become such a romantic?” he teased.

Daenerys’ hold on his balls tightened at once. “I can stop any time,” she warned him with a smirk.

Jon squirmed in her hold with a chuckle. He pulled the cigarette from his lips and he exhaled, the smoke filling the damp air, and he shook his head. “No, don’t,” he pleaded weakly, and Daenerys’ hold loosened at once.

Instead, she resumed blowing him, her lips skilfully wrapping around his throbbing member, and Jon sighed and lolled his head to the side, ashes building up on his smoke as he lost himself in the pleasurable feeling.

Daenerys knew how to make him feel good; her little tongue dragged up and down the fat vein on the back of his cock, her mouth suckled and teased his sensitive cockhead, and her throat pushed itself open for the girth of his length as she pushed herself further down his cock. By the time she was taking him down her throat, Jon was squirming under her, his whole body quivering with lust.

“Oh Gods,” he whispered and had another drag of his smoke, “you truly are treating me today.”

If Daenerys replied, her words merely became a humming across his dick, the sensation sending him closer to the edge. As her throat clenched around him, making her gag slightly, Jon pushed his hips upwards to meet her greedy mouth. “Like that,” he mumbled, earning himself a slight choke, and he reached down with his hands to slip them into her silver hair, “ _just like that_.”

Just like Jon had been struggling to breathe underwater, Daenerys was now struggling with his cock embedded in her mouth. Still, she carried on, her face reddening and her eyes glazing over as Jon slowly fucked her lips. As seconds passed, her lungs started begging for air too, but by then he was ramming so needily into her that she could not make herself pull back.

So she remained, her knees aching and her breath held in her throat as his balls finally tightened and his cock pulsated one last time, releasing himself deeply inside her throat.

Jon groaned with pleasure as he came, shooting his sperm into her, and he drew his hands back, allowing Daenerys to free herself and gasp for air. Yet, she didn’t go up immediately, but slowly bobbed her head up and down his length as she milked him for every last drop, swallowing his cum completely. Only then, as he had nothing more to give, did her lips pop free of his cock, and she reached over and grabbed the last bit of the smoke from his hands.

As she had a drag, she sighed with satisfaction. “Now that,” she spoke, smoke slipping from her lips across his face, “was certainly _not_ mainstream.”

Jon chuckled weakly. He reached over and grabbed her, pulling her into his arms, and together they laid in the bathwater, feeling each other’s heartbeat. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Jon heard himself ask: “When did you start smoking again?”

“Don’t make me reach for the bar of soap,” Daenerys warned, her voice tired. She nestled against his chest, her eyes closed, her lips parted for the cigarette.

“Why, do you need your dirty mouth cleaned?”

Daenerys chuckled and pushed her hand through the water, searching for the bar. “You’re on thin ice, Jon.”

“Feels more like a boiling pot of water to me,” Jon said and splashed the warm water around her.

Daenerys clucked her tongue and threw the butt of the smoke aside, aiming perfectly for the sink. She turned in his arms, looked into his eyes, and raised her hand, the soap ready between her fingers. “Need a clean?” she asked.

Jon licked his lips and nodded. “More than ever.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to DragonandDirewolf for the amazingly sexy art which is what inspired this story! If not for her, I'd not written anything for today's prompt of dirty talk - but luckily inspiration struck this morning! Hope you enjoyed that. Comments always appreciated!


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